Witches Warren
by Blacktrix1
Summary: Harry Potter and Bellatrix Black, were once not so different. When Harry's curiosity gets the better of him, Dumbledores Pensieve turns out to be more than just memories. Thrown into a world of history he thought he knew, can Harry defeat the darkness before it rises and change his fate? More importantly, can he also change the fate of one, ever enchanting, dark witch? HP/BL HG/DM
1. Chapter 1

**A/N : I sadly, do not own anything Harry Potter, however do enjoy writing the odd fanfic.**

 **This new little fic of mine, has been written over the past year, so chapters will be released on a regular basis, however its chapters are sighted to change before their release, so as of yet, this story is still ever changing and therefore, I ask you to be patient with my probably coppulous grammar and spelling mistakes. (Dyslexia is a curse of its own). However, I hope you enjoy reading this story, as much as I do writing it.**

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 **Chapter 1: The Baker Boy's Blunder**

The village of Mugwosh was anything but an ordinary rural community. For many of it's seldom tourists that happened to come across its residents, they were greeted only by hostile stares and unwelcome side-glances.

For those whom walked down its cobbled streets, which even on the warmest of summer days, were covered in a dank gloom, it was impossible for them to feel anything other, than anxious trepidation. It appeared that the villagers, could feel this too, with many of their windows being; shuttered, barred, or even completely boarded up. By sunset, the few residence of Mugwosh would retreat hastily to their homes, lock their doors and become silent. And without fail, every night as the moon rose on the bleak horizon, a dense fog engulfed Mugwosh in a smoky white blanket, so thick, that if it wasn't for the candle lit street lamps, would be impossible to navigate through. Not that anyone ever needed to.

But Mugwosh was not always such an isolated village. Roughly 50 years ago, Mugwosh was a thriving community, with a busy farmers market every other day that filled the main street. Local fishermen would dot around the lake from dawn until dusk, hoping to catch the famous Mugwosh pike. Villagers bustled about their busy day, getting the local newspaper, meeting for afternoon tea's, swapping the latest fashions, or gathering in the local pub for a well earned pint, after a hard day's work in the fields. All of which, would always bottle down to getting the local gossip on Witches Warren.

Witches Warren, a long and straight country lane, was the only part of the village that wasn't cheerful. Unlike the crisp golden cobble stones that paved Mugwosh streets, the Warren was a matted path covered in a black carpet of thorny ivy. Tree's, planted evenly either side of the path, were mangled and warped, that never grew any leaves, giving them the impression that they had once been set on fire, leaving behind black charred remains.

The Warren, according to the villagers, was haunted. Fearful parents warned their children to stay away. Dogs barked and growled if they ever passed to close. Birds never flew above and not a soul ever admitted to going near it. Even so, every now and again, new rumours surfaced about the goings on down the Warren and again it became the talk of the town.

"My Michael tol' me tha' he saw one of them tree's move!" The gardeners wife said, late in the pub one night.

The butcher would regularly say to his eager customers "Swear's not a souls been down there for over five 'undred years".

But it wasn't until one of the hottest days of the year; on August 31st 1967 to be exact, did the villagers have anything to really talk about.

Many of the residences were out on the Village Green surrounding the lake, celebrating the annual "Hook-Ya-Dinner" competition, where every man, in every household, would attempt to catch the largest fish. Families and friends sat in groups enjoying the celebrations, cheering on their husbands, brothers and fathers, as they reeled in their catches. Yet as the last man was battling with a particularly feisty line, and every spectator was holding their breath, to see if this could be the legendary Mugwosh Pike, did they hear it.

A glass shattering scream, came from the direction of Witches Warren. The villagers jumped, some people screamed in shock. Within an instant, the atmosphere amongst the crowd changed.

They fell silent, only to wait to hear the scream again. Not a moment after it stopped did it begin again, the ear piercing scream, only this time, a dark figure appeared over the slight hill surrounding the green.

Running almost out of control, in a frenzied panic towards the crowd was the 17 year old, baker's apprentice, Borris Bodgen. He was sprinting so fast, it appeared that his voice, had failed him. The villagers ran to meet him but before they could reach Borris, they knew something was gravely wrong.

Borris was no longer running, he had halted abruptly and began feeling his throat. His face flushed red as if he was straining. He began banging his chest hard, his mouth agape. He began spluttering and coughing but looked unable to draw any breath and his face now took one a blue tinge. Eyes bulging and streaming his cheeks with tears, he fell to his knee's as the fastest men reached him first.

"He's choking!" Cried a bearded man, whacking Borris on the back several times with a dull *THUD*.

*THUD* "S'all righ' Borris." *THUD* "Stay calm." Another man said. But Borris was unable to see any of them anymore. He had wedged his eyes shut, concentrating with every ounce of effort in his body, on trying to take in breath.

"He can't breathe!" A panicked woman screamed, "someone do something!" *THUD* "He'll die!"

Suddenly the bearded man ceased banging on Borris' back, and kneeled down in front of the now purple-faced teen. He pulled open Borris' mouth, hoping to see whatever was blocking his airways, but as he did, a wave of gasps and screams erupted around Borris.

Something long, thick and oozing with blood flopped out of his mouth, and hung down to Borris' chest. His tongue was swollen, and continued to swell before the villagers eyes, until it filled his entire mouth and held it open and began opening it further, until it looked like Borris' mouth was going to rip at the sides.

"CUT-IT-OFF! CUT-IT-OFF!" The same woman shrieked.

It seemed the only logical thing they could think of. Borris had collapsed in a heap at their feet and the colour seemed to drain from his cheeks, as the foot-long tongue, grew like a slimy, bloody slug, across the grass. They had to do something, or he was going to die.

Ripping out a pocket knife, the bearded man began to slice at the meaty lump, but as soon as the blade cut the flesh, the tongue poured out a bucket load of black, tar-like liquid, spewing out over the grass. But as the liquid emptied out, Borris' tongue began to shrink down and retreat back into his mouth, allowing him to take in a long, rasping breath, as he filled his empty lungs.

"What 'appened boy!" Asked the bearded man, as Borris sat up, still rubbing his neck.

But all they managed to get out of him, no matter what questions they asked, was always the same repetitive sentence. "There's a witch, a witch in the Warren." Indeed, that was the only thing Borris ever said, for the rest of his life.

Five years ago…. (1962 to be exact)

Borris Bodgen woke early on the first day of the summer holiday. He got dressed at lightning speed, which had always been impossible during the school term, and he zoomed out of the house, hopped on his slightly old fashioned, red rusty bike and peddled up the lane.

Borris lived on the outskirts of Mugwosh, and it was a good ten minute bike ride before he reached the bustling village centre. But to get there, Borris had to cycle passed Watches Warren. Unlike many of the other residences, Borris was not afraid of the Warren. He had passed it so many times in his life that he had grown rather fond of it, in fact, against his promise to his mother not to go near it, Borris had often sat right on the edge of the carpet of ivy and watched. What he was watching for, he didn't know. But on several occasions, Borris had felt as though he was being watched, by who or what he never saw, he just had a feeling.

By the time he reached the village centre, the Farmers Market was already in full swing, despite the early hours, many of the elderly residence were already wandering about, peering at the fresh produce on sale.

Like every weekend, it was Borris' job to help the local baker, Tod Timmons, deliver several baskets of ordered breads and pastries around Mugwosh.

"Alrigh' Borris?" Todd greeted him, from behind an enormous bag of flour.

"Alright!" Borris smiled eagerly, bouncing on his toe's as he awaited Todd's first instruction for the day.

Dropping the sack of flour on floor, Todd Timmons emerged from behind the counter, his face dusted white and said cheerfully, "Got five order's for ya' today boy." Pulling out a folded piece of paper from his apron pocket;

"Misses Biggle's broke 'er 'ip last week, so I'm sendin' 'er half dozen scones with 'er usual Sourdough. Mr Marlow wants three French sticks an' a small chocolate muffin for 'is daughter's birthday. Mrs Gripes needs a Farmer's loaf. Mike Tindal, ya' know the gardener, well he wants a pasty for 'is lunch, an' Miss Vance needs our finest Walnut bread!" Todd looked up at Borris, who was still smiling from ear to ear. "Ya' get all tha' Borris?" He said calmly.

"Yea, yea, got it all up here Boss!" He tapped the top of his head.

Todd chuckled as he handed Borris the scribbled list, "y'all make a good baker one day lad!"

"Just two more years an' I can leave school an' be your apprentice boss." he replied, still smiling, as he began picking up the basket labelled, 'Biggles' and 'Scones'.

"Steady on now lad," Todd said, a little more seriously, "don' go missin' out on a good education now. Jus' 'cause it's a little 'ard now, don' mean it won't get a little easier in the long run, alrigh'."

Borris simply shrugged and looked at the floor, preparing to leave the shop.

"Them bullies still after ya' 'ey?" Todd walked up to him now, his voice filled with concern; But Borris looked up at him anyway and gave a weak smile.

"Nothing I can't handle boss." He said, trying to sound like he didn't feel like he was going to cry, and he dashed out the door to deliver his first order.

By midday, Borris had delivered all five orders and an extra three to the local farmer Phillip Knotts, who said he needed 12 Sesame-seed loaves for his prize winning pig, nicknamed the Porker.

As he cycled home, at a much slower rate than he had set out at, Borris became aware that someone was following him out of the village. Glancing over his shoulder, he spotted three other children on bikes who were fast approaching him.

Each of them, had a wicked looking grin on their faces. A rush of adrenaline burst through his body as he recognised Frankie Pane, Reese Hardy and Eliot Fig, more commonly known to Borris as the local bullies, whose main ambition was to cause nothing but fear and torment in Borris' life.

Pedalling as fast as his already burning legs would go, he desperately tried to stay ahead of them, but even so, they were still gaining on him.

"Were ya' goin' baker boy!" Eliot jeered nastily, as they got ever closer to him.

"Got some nice lookin' bread there, didn't get any from ya' this mornin'!" Threatened Frankie, who Borris could tell was only feet away from him now, but still Borris kept pedalling.

He could see Witches Warren ahead of him now, if he could just get passed there, he would be ok. For no matter how tough the bullies were, they never ventured passed the Warren.

"Bulgin' Borris, come back 'ere ya' fat twat!" Yelled Reese, the biggest and unfortuantly the most muscular of the three. He was less than ten feet away from the Warren.

He willed his legs to keep going, "c'mon go faster, please go faster!" He breathed through gritted teeth, gripping his bike handles so tight is knuckles turned blue. But he was too slow.

He felt fingers close around his left shoulder and tug him off balance, causing him to turn and fall hard to the left, and he crashed onto the gravel path. He felt his knee burn as the skin ripped beneath his trousers. His head thumped against the ground and he skidded to a halt.

His head felt like his brain was pounding against his skull, but Borris knew if he lay there, the bullies would not waste the opportunity. Getting to his feet he turned to face a sight, he was not expecting to see.

Both Frankie and Eliot were cycling away back towards the village at break neck speed, while Reese, who had obviously grabbed Borris' arm, was starring at the Warren, pale faced and shaking violently. Standing on the edge of Witches Warren and glaring back at Reese, was a young, raven haired girl, wearing a black dress that just covered her knees, with knee-high white socks and black pumps.

Borris felt like he had just swallowed an ice cube. He starred at her. Mugwosh was so small, it was easy to know everyone. But he had never seen her before, and he had never seen anyone stand in Witches Warren.

"GO!" She said sternly to Reese, so firmly that Borris thought it was more of an order. "Go home and never tell of this!"

Borris held his breath in fear, he was certain Reese could easily push over the girl with his little finger, but instead, he slowly picked up his bike and rode away in silence. Borris stood there, stunned. He could not believe what he had just seen. What had he seen he wondered?

"You should go home too." With a start, Borris turned to see the dark haired girl with her back to him, walking away up the lane.

"W-wait!" Borris yelled, finding his voice. The girl stopped. "Who are you?" He asked, hesitantly, as she turned slowly round to face him. In that instant Borris realised she couldn't have been much older than 11.

Her eyes were a bright violet and her skin was icy white, but her lips were a brilliant contrasting red. She was so young, yet her whole appearance and the way she carried herself, neat and orderly, gave the look of someone much older, nothing like an ordinary 11 year old.

"Who are you?" She asked, sounding more like an ordinary young girl.

"Borris Bodgen." He noticed the corner of the girls lip twitch upwards. "What's funny?" He said, slightly sharper than what he intended. He was so used to people laughing and smirking at his name.

"Your name." She said bluntly, her face expressionless once again.

"What's yours then?" Borris tried to sound like he didn't care, but his tone betrayed him, causing her lips to kink again.

"You don't need to know." She said, coolly. "You should go home Borris." And she began walking up the Warren again.

"Will you be here tomorrow!?" It was the only thing he could think of, to be able to see the girl again. He didn't know why he wanted to see her; she was around his age, but none of the other children he knew, looked nearly as pretty or as captivating as she did. Borris knew he had to see her again. He had to.

"Will you be here tomorrow?" She called, not bothering to turn around this time.

"I'm here everyday." He shouted.

"So am I," and she carried on walking down the Warren, before disappearing from sight, behind a large and disfigured looking tree, which Borris presumed, was where the Warren turned off.

The next day Borris raced through his usual delivery round, not stopping to talk to any of the villagers and when several people called to him;

"Where you off to Borris?", "Where's the fire lad!?" "What's your hurry!?" Borris simply laughed and called over his shoulder, "Meeting someone!"

However his time saving speediness was soon thwarted by his bikes front tire hitting a particularly sharp piece of flint and running flat.

Finally he arrived at the edge of Witches Warren, but his face fell in disappointment when he saw nothing but an empty path of black ivy and no sign of the girl.

Suddenly, jumping from the nearest black tree and landing right in front of him, was the raven haired girl.

"You're twenty minutes late!" She scowled.

"My bike ran a flat." He said honestly, feeling like he was in trouble.

"No its not." She pointed at the bike. Turning to look at it, Borris glared at it in astonishment. The tire was fully inflated and looked almost brand new.

"What the hell!" He exclaimed, touching it to make sure his eyes weren't deceiving him. "I don't understand I checked it, I saw it. It was flat. Honest!" Looking at the girl, he noticed she was smirking at him, revealing dazzlingly white teeth. Then a new thought occurred to him. "Did, did you…"

"I didn't touch your bike." She said firmly, as if trying to convince him of her innocence. There was a moments silence, which didn't seem to bother her in the slightest.

"You never told me your name?" Borris decided to change the subject.

"Why did you want to see me again?" She inquired, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"I- I just," But Borris didn't really know why.

"Those boys, why were they chasing you yesterday?" She interrupted, as if she had already guessed Borris didn't have an answer.

"They, err… They just think it's funny." He said shyly, feeling embarrassed. "Did you...Did you make them go away?" He asked as another thought occurred to him.

She gave another smirk, as if she was enjoying watching him figure things out. "I might have. Might not."

"So you did?" He smiled.

"I told them to go away, and they did. Perhaps you should try that too." She said, in that same stern tone.

Borris laughed sarcastically, "Yea, I'm sure they'd have listened to me!" He looked up at the tree the girl had jumped down from, an suddenly realised the first mangled branch, was almost 15 feet above them. "How the hell did you get up there!?"

"I flew." She said casually, as if it were completely normal.

Borris laughed again, "Ok, sure you did." But the girl just looked at him as though he was mad and he stopped laughing. "You are pulling my leg, aren't you?"

"No." She replied, matter of factely. "I got a broom for my birthday, and I flew up there."

"Ok, now I know you're joking." He said, looking at her with a grimace.

"Don't believe me then." She began walking around Borris now, as if checking him all over for anything suspicious.

"So if you did, fly on your broom, where is it then?" He raised an eyebrow.

"I sent it home." She answered, now staring at his worn out trainers, that were dusted in flour and dried mud.

"So I'm to believe, you can make people go away by just telling them, you can fix bike tyres without touching them and you can fly on brooms." He said, even more sceptical.

"That's the problem with you muggles! So closed minded, you don't believe the truth when it's right in front of you!" She sounded slightly cross.

"You can't seriously expect me to believe you!?" He felt his eyes widen slightly.

"I'm not a liar!" She crouched onto the ground and began clawing at the path, until she began to rip the gravel away with her fingers, to reveal a small circle of bare earth.

"What are you-?"

"SHHHH!" She silenced him, and grabbed his hand and yanked him down so they were both now crouched over the patch of earth and looked at him, her purple eyes staring at him, and she pointed to the dirt and whispered, "Watch." And she touched the centre of the patch with her index finger.

Almost instantly, a green sprout grew out of the very spot she had touched, and it began to grow. Two spiked leaves spread out of its stem and a perfect green bud formed at its top, before finally opening up, to reveal a bright yellow dandillion.

Borris felt his mouth fall open. It was only when he heard the young girl let out a small giggle did he finally look up, feeling completely stunned by what he had witnessed.

"Told you, closed minded." She gave him a look of superiority, her purple eyes dazzling him.

There was a moments silence. Borris looked from the flower, to the girl. Then back to the flower and then back to the girl again. An action he repeated several times, before eventually realising, that no matter how many times he looked away, the flower and the girl, would still be there. So he swallowed hard, preparing to speak. Little did he know that what he said next, would change both their lives forever.

"What else can you do?!" Borris exclaimed excitedly.

She cast him a wicked smile, revealing her gleaming white teeth, and Borris saw her violet eyes shine even more so, as she leaned forward and whispered happily into his ear, "Lots!"

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 **A.N: Well, there you have it. Don't panic, Borris is not a main character and won't be returning for a while. But what did you think of the young Bellatrix? Next chapter, we meet a tormented Harry at the end of his fifth year, just after the battle at the ministry...to be released next week...or if you really like it, I will push my checking skills to the limit and aim for...tomorrow! Eeep! Until then, ' _Mischief Managed!'_**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything Harry Potter...Unless owning some fan based merchandise counts - That stuff is ALL mine!**

 **A.N : quick note to say that this chapter has changed quite a bit and it now takes place roughly 2 weeks into the start of term of OOTP. Warning an OC Ron and Dumbledore. I tried to make Hermione as true to character as possible, but again this does not follow the same story line as OOTP, so bare with me...Bigger A.N at the end too, but anyway, Happy readings.**

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 **Chapter 2:**

 **The Gargoyle's Surprise**

"FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!"

The words barely reached Harry's ears, not least because his left one was filled with blood.

His knuckles were sore, his arms and knees ached, his head throbbed like he'd been hit by a truck, and his vision dimmed with every pound from his skull, threatening to subdue him into closing his eyes and giving up.

He spat a clot of blood onto the stone floor that had collected in the back of his throat. He was certain that Goyle was feeling just as bad as he was.

The ape of a teenager, slumped onto his knee, crimson blood dripped from both nostrils and the purple tinge surrounding his swollen lip, told Harry his left hook had done some serious damage. Panting hard, Goyle wiped his nose on his shirt, painting it red, and placed both hands on the ground and looked up menacingly, at Harry.

For a split second Harry found it funny. Goyle looked just like a silverback gorilla, standing proudly on its arms and legs. But then he realized why it wasn't funny.

Goyle sprung forwards, propelling himself upright with his bulging legs, like a rugby player performing a drill. He collided with Harry with such force that he lost his footing and he fell hard onto his back, Goyle's full weight holding him down. With his left arm squashed beneath Goyle's right leg, Harry went to move his right arm but suddenly his fingers burned and there was a horrible crunching sensation that made Harry's stomach twist. He let out a yell of agony and tried to pull his hand away, but found it pinned to the floor.

Looking at it through cloudy vision, his left eye had closed altogether now, and what was left of his right one was blurred from a broken lens in his glasses. However, he could still make out the unmistakable white blonde hair, green robes and steely grey eyes, smirking down at him. Draco was standing in his hand.

"Where are your friends Potter?" Malfoy asked, over the still chanting crowd of students. Harry felt like he could have answered this with 'prefect duty' and 'quidditch practice.' But that would have been a lie.

"You know, I don't think they're here Potter." Malfoy grinned, as he looked into the crowd with fake concern that soon twisted into an evil smile. "Not even mummy can save you this time!" He threatened through gritted teeth.

Harry attempted to wriggle free as Malfoy gave a mirthless laugh, and Harry spotted him nod his head at Goyle who had clearly been waiting for the command.

He drew his pudgy hand back and Harry screwed his face up, not daring to look at the blow he was certain would finish him off.

THWACK!

The punch felt like an iron club and Harry heard his eye socket crack. Merlin it hurt. Harry squinted up, and saw the blurred outline of Goyle raising his bloody fist for another punch.

 _'Oh shit!_ ' He thought as he shut his eyes tight again.

"PETRIFICUS TOTALLES! Yelled a recognizable voice from amongst the crowd.

Harry felt Goyle stiffen, and Draco's foot released his hand. Looking up he saw Goyle's fist, frozen in midair, no more than three inches away from his nose. The crowd had stopped chanting now and footsteps were already hurrying off in several directions.

Harry shifted under the pale blue Goyle that look like he had frostbite, and pushed him off.

"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS!?" The woman's voice yelled again.

 _'Shit!_ ' Harry's stomach flipped. He would rather have faced the beating of his life from every Slytherin in school, than turn and face McGonagall.

Her arms folded, her pert lips were no more than a thin line and her eyes were fixed on Draco with such venom, that Harry thought he had been petrified. But then her eyes fell on him, and her expression fell from anger to shock.

"P-Potter..." Harry wiped his nose, attempting to cover up some of the blood. The last thing he needed was for McGonagall to feel sorry for him and make a fuss. "Did- did you do this Malfoy!" She pointed at Harry, swiftly approaching him. But Draco didn't answer.

She knelt down beside harry, he noticed she kept raising her hands close to every wound but she would hesitate, and then spot a new cut or bruise and her hands would move to that one instead. It was like she was frightened to touch him. "Oh, Potter, what have you got yourself into?" She whispered, but Harry knew it wasn't really a question.

"SNAPES OFFCIE. NOW!" McGonagall spat at Malfoy, who didn't need any encouragement, and he sprinted off down the now deserted corridor.

"You need the hospital wing Potter. Can you stand?" She asked him, her voice returning to its usual stern tone.

"Honestly professor, its not that - bad." He coughed, specks lf red flying from his lips. But even as he attempted to stand, his head felt like someone had let a firework off inside his skull and his vision darkened, and he slumped back down.

"I'll take that as a no." McGonagall tutted.

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The next thing Harry remembered was the feeling of something warm encasing his entire body and the feeling of being light as a feather and just sinking deeper and deeper into complete relaxation. His head rested on a soft pillow and his fingers twitched under the comfort of the warm duvet. The faint smell of lavender and…. Pumpkin Cough syrup, reached his nostrils and Harry realized he must be in the hospital wing. A thought confirmed when he heard the all too familiar sound of Madame Pomfrey's heels clicking briskly towards him.

He didn't move. He remained resolutely still; trying not to give away any sign that he had woken up – he was too busy enjoying the coziness, no, the safety the bed gave him.

"Is he alright?" A familiar female voice croaked, and Harry stiffened. He hadn't realized someone had been beside him, and quickly the comforting warmth of the bed began to ebb away, replaced by a hot sweat as his body began to become fully awake.

"Ask him yourself Miss Granger. I've just been alerted by my healing sensors that Mister Potter there, has woken up." Harry felt their eyes bare down on him. "Isn't that right, Potter." The matriarch's stern but slightly amused voice, made Harry wish the pillow would swallow him hole.

Harry raised a surprisingly stiff left arm that creaked like a rusty door. "Hellmmm…" Was the best version of a hello he managed to breath out.

"Oh Harry..." He heard Hermione gasp beside him, before feeling her practically leap onto his chest and hug him tight. In surprise, his eyes flew open, thankful that her bushy brown hair blocked the majority of light. He could feel her shaking body as she clung to him, and he realized, she was crying. He raised his arms as best he could to wrap around her, trying to make her feel as safe as he did.

"That's enough now Miss Granger. Mister Potter has been through quite an ordeal," Hermione slunk back into the seat next to the bed, nodding and smiling to Madame Pomfrey. Before she sniffed loudly and took in several deep breaths. "There are some tissues in my office, if you'd prefer them to your sleeve my dear." She said, not bothering to look up from her clipboard.

Hermione smiled again, and took the hint, quickly vanishing behind the blue curtain the Medi-witch pulled around the bed.

"Now Potter, don't talk." Harry closed his mouth- he had a lot of questions suddenly. "I will explain everything from a medical perspective first and then if you still have any questions relating to your health you can ask me then. The rest," She cast him a serious, but none-the-less kind look," I'm sure Miss Granger will be more than willing to fill you in. Do we understand?"

"Yes..." He nodded, his voice husky from such little use.

"Good!" She made a large tick notion on her clipboard. "First things first; your injuries upon arrival were as follows. Two broken ribs, dislocated right shoulder, crushed cartilage in both your left ankle and between two spinal vertebrae on your lower back, a broken nose, shattered left eye socket, one perforated eardrum in you left ear, and finally a cracked skull cranial. All in all Mr. Potter, you had similar if not worse injuries, than someone who got hit by a Muggle car. You are very lucky to be alive." She gave him a look that had he presumed was pity, and there was a pause as she began checking his pulse. Her cold fingers clutching his wrist, as she counted it against her watch.

"Seems fine there," she said, as she ticked her notes again. "Now, I can mend bones in a heart beat, so your; ribs, nose, eye socket and skull, were healed in less than half an hour. A double dose of Cart-Replens was enough to heal both your spinal vertebrae and ankle." She moved down to the end of Harry's bed and lifted the duvet off his feet. The sudden coldness made his toes flinch, but the Matriarch lifted his left foot in the air and began to rotate the joint- Up-Down-Left-Right, before giving a satisfactory nod and making another tick on her clip-board, not bothering to cover Harry's feet back up.

"How-" Harry swallowed, surprised by the gruffness of his voice. "How long was I out?"

"Six days." She pulled out a small torch from her pocket, "Cracked skulls can be fixed, but it's the brain that's the hardest to heal." She added, opening Harry's eyes wide and flashing the torch into both, leaving him temporarily blinded by yellow streaks. "All seems fine there however. Good pupil response, I'd say you were out of the danger zone, but I think you should still stay here for observation for another night." She ticked her clipboard for the final time, gave him a quick smile and pulled back the curtain with a flick of her wand. Revealing an anxious looking Hermione behind it, a scrunched tissue in her hand.

"You can come in now Miss Granger, I'm sure Potter has lots of questions he'd like you to answer." The Medi-witch said, not bothering to wait and see if Harry did have any questions for her – he didn't – and she returned to her office once again.

For a moment Harry just starred at Hermione, and vice-versa, and then Harry spotted the glistening of threatening tears in his friend's eyes, and his heart melted a little. He outstretched his hand towards her and gave her, what he hoped, was a smile that said, ' _I'm not angry with you._ '

"Oh Harry…" Hermione half laughed half cried, as she rushed forwards and hugged him again. "I'm so sorry!" She wept.

"S'ok..." He raised his stiff arms and hugged her back.

"No, no its not Harry," She shifted out of the hug so she was perched upright on the edge of the bed. "I've been so horrible to you recently, and if I'd just…. just…. Oh Merlin! Harry I've been a terrible friend to you recently!"

"I don't think ignoring someone constitutes terrible Hermione." He pushed himself up so he was level with her. "I mean it's not like you hexed me in the hallways, or locked me out of the boys dormitory, or shouted threats at me like everyone else has."

"No but I didn't condone that behavior either." She sniffed, "I mean I…. I wanted to say something to you, but, but…" She began to rip her tissue into small pieces.

"You're with Ron," Harry sighed.

"Was." She corrected sharply, "I _was_ with Ron."

"Oh…Right…" Harry tried to hide his surprised smile with a cough. "So erm…Trouble in paradise is it?"

"Stop smirking Harry!" She smiled, "I know you're secretly pleased."

Harry couldn't help but smile at her, earning him playful smack on the arm.

"Oiy! I'd like to keep my arm on my body." He joked, gently rubbing his arm and pretending it had gone limp.

"Would you like me to call Madame Pomfrey over?" She said with sarcastic sympathy.

"Oh would you look at that," Harry's arm sprang back into life, "All Better!"

For a moment the pair just giggled, before Hermione sighed deeply and looked into Harry's green eyes and said, "I've missed you Harry."

Harry felt like a small weight had just lifted from his shoulders. For weeks, after their return to Hogwarts, he had been isolated, tormented, and most recently, beaten up by his fellow classmates, and why? Because the Profit called him a liar. Because a jealous Ron had run straight to the reporters and told them that Harry had merely been tricked by the enchantments of the Maze in the Tri-wizard Tournament. That the Cup was a portkey, but it was only a portkey out of the maze, (Confirmed by one of the Tournament Regulators.) In a separate Article, it stated Cedric Digory had died from the Constrictus curse, after a post-mortem revealed heavy internal bleeding. So even if Cedric had survived Voldemort, the damage from the Maze roots had done enough, and he would have died anyway. With no Comment from Dumbledore on the matter, meant his classmates had estranged Harry even more so. All of them choosing to believe he was an unstable, deluded and an attention seeking child, that should be treated no better, if not worse – than a common leach.

Harry hated it all. He thought he could have handled the whole school hating him, if his best friends had stayed by his side, and believed him. Instead, a begrudging and bitter Ron had chosen to believe the masses. Hermione had shown her support in some ways, by smiling at him if they crossed paths. However, her newly found relationship with Ron, soon squashed any communication between the two of them, and Harry was made to feel totally alone. Yet now, Hermione had managed to say possibly, the most perfect few words, and everything that had happened, seemed to feel a little more like a memory Harry wanted to wash away.

"I've missed you too." He smiled, his eyes stinging a little. Hermione seemed to burst and she flung her arms around him again, but this time Harry rolled backwards, so they were both lying down on the hospital bed. "Can you stay with me tonight?" He asked into her mane of hair, the sweetness of her perfume, reminded him of daffodils, and he felt an odd sense of tranquility creep over him.

"You know Pomfrey will never allow that Harry." Hermione breathed into his shoulder.

"I know, but just till visiting hours are over." Hermione went to pull away, but Harry tightened his hold, afraid if he let go, she wouldn't really be there and this would be nothing more than a broken skull delusion. "Please."

"I'm not going anywhere Harry!" She laughed, "I just want to get my legs on the bed with you. C'mon, move over."

"Oh right," Harry released her and shunted his body over, so Hermione could lie on the bed without fear of rolling off the edge. "Better?"

"Better." She smiled, her hazel eyes gleamed at him as she took his hand and held it to her chest, and Harry noted how much warmth she gave him, not just from her body temperature, but just by being with him. "I can only stay until visiting hours are over though, ok?" She warned, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

"I know." He nodded. "So… Are you going to tell me why you and Ron aren't going to have lots of tiny red-headed babies?"

"Ohh don't say that," She cringed burying her face behind their hands, "that's just an awful thought!"

"Which part, the many babies or the way you _make_ the babies?" He teased.

"Great Merlin that's an image I didn't want…Ewww!" She squealed, and Harry laughed as he felt Hermione wiggle her feet, as if trying to shake the mental picture away.

"Seriously now," He couldn't help but smile as he pulled their hands away from Hermione's face, revealing her embarrassed pink cheeks, "Why'd you break up. You two were perfect for each other."

She gave him a look that just screamed, _'really Harry? Really?'_

"Well…Almost perfect."

"It was actually right after the fight between you and Goyle. Ron and I were walking back to the Common Room when McGonagall literally came barging through, shouting for everyone to get out of the way with you floating behind her, looking like you died." Harry's stomach stiffened in humiliation – he must've looked a sight being floated behind McGonagall to the hospital wing. "Anyway, I thought you _had died_ and wanted to go after you, but Ron just lost it- I mean I always knew he was a little…. Possessive, but he just started yelling at me."

"What did he say?" Harry said, trying to make himself sound more concerned than hostile towards what he was already presuming Ron had said.

"Well you can probably guess Harry," She moaned, "He just said I was obviously cheating on him, with you, because I was refusing to take our relationship to the next level. And that… You were nothing more than a psychotic head-case that deserved what he got." She finished, biting her bottom lip as she watched him carefully. She had noticed how his hand had slowly squeezed tighter around her hand as she spoke.

"So…" He tried to sound indifferent, "What did you say after that?" It wasn't convincing.

"I told him to get stuffed!" She snapped, relaxing as Harry's grip did the same. "It just sort of hit me. I didn't want to be with him and that every time I had tried to talk to you, even just look at you, he would always start criticizing you, calling you a liar and sorts. It was just horrible, and not just his attitude towards _you_ either. The whole relationship – _everything_ \- Just horrible... He snogged like a gawping fish too!" She gave an exaggerated shiver.

Harry couldn't help but let a broad smile spread across his face, as he looked into Hermione's honest eyes. Despite the bubbling of revulsion towards Ron, he couldn't help but let the feeling be washed away by waves of contentment to finally have someone talk to him. To acknowledge him.

"What?" Hermione asked, unsure of why Harry was looking at her in such a way.

"Nothing," He shook his head, still smiling, "It's just nice to have my friend back."

Hermione pulled his arm back to her chest and hugged it tight, "I'm _so_ sorry Harry. I wanted to talk to you, _everyday_ , but…People were telling me you'd hate me and, after a while I just started to believe them…"

"Visiting hours finish in five minutes you two!" Madame Pomfrey called from inside her office, making both Harry and Hermione jump.

"Great Merlin, I thought she was going to tell us off then!" Harry breathed. "That's just what I need, Pomfrey threatening to stick her thermometer where the sun don't shine." He whispered, and he and Hermione buried their laughter into the pillow.

"I should get going though." Hermione finally said, with a sigh. "Its only ten minutes until curfew."

As she got up to leave, Harry clutched her hand a little more in an effort to stop her. "Promise you'll come back tomorrow?" He couldn't hide the worry in his voice.

"I'll be back first thing in the morning, I promise." And with that, she kissed the top of his head, said her good nights to the Medi-witch, and disappeared into the castle.

* * *

Hermione kept to her word, and the following morning, Harry woke up to find his friend, carrying a tray ladled with a full English breakfast.

"Wow Hermione!" he gawped, taking in the sight of; toast, two sausages, a small mound of bacon, two fried tomatoes, half a plate of scrambled egg, a stack of pancakes oozing in golden syrup, a glass of orange juice and a bowl of porridge. "Is this all for me, or is there an army you plan to feed as well?"

"Well I didn't know what you fancied, so I just got you a bit of everything." She Laughed.

Harry didn't mind, his stomach growled in hunger, after all he had been knocked out for nearly a week, and one mug of Calm-Me-Cuppa-Soup did not constitute a good supper last night. However, he was just about to take his first bite of bacon, when Madame Pomfrey strode over and began giving them both a lecture on the amount of saturated fats in a single sausage. So Harry had to make do with toast, while Hermione had to leave for her Ancient ruins class, but swore that she would meet Harry in the library before lunch.

"Right potter," Madame Pomfrey scanned him over with her wand several hours later. "I think you're about as healthy as I can get you. You're free to leave."

Just as Harry was about to walk through the doors out of the infirmary, a Phoenix Patronus swooped over him, making him duck, and landed on the bed beside him.

"Harry, I trust you are now fully recovered. Could you please join me in my office before returning to your usual activities." Dumbledore's authoritive voice spoke through the birds hooked beak. "We have several recent incidents to discuss. Also, I my favourite cereal is Coco-Pops." And before Harry could even respond, the phoenix spread its wings, and evaporated into a thin mist.

"Great. Just great." Harry grumbled through gritted teeth, and he turned left out of the infirmary and began his way towards the Headmasters office.

As he climbed the stairs to the tower, Harry began to ponder on the questions Dumbledore may ask him. Would he ask about the fight between him and Goyle? Would he know about how much the school body had turned against him? Would he believe him or just choose to believe the Profit like everyone else? Even worse, would he ignore everything and choose to be in the grey area, rather than pick a side? Was he about to be expelled? Harry's heart beat a little faster as he approached the golden Gargoyle. His final question filled him with dread.

"Coco-Pops." He spoke to the statue. Immediately its pallor eyes glistened and blinked into life. The creature shook its heavy head while it took a low bow, and stepped aside, revealing a stone staircase that began spiraling upwards from the ground.

As he stepped up and began his assent, the Gargoyle did something Harry never thought it could – mainly because it had never done so before. It muttered a poem;

"A troubled destiny we see's ahead,

For boys and girls, he wants them dead,

You wonders what your fate will find,

But take a leap and look behind."

Its voice was thick with clicks and hisses which only made it harder to understand but he could just about hear the rest of the poem as he paused halfway up the stairs, suddenly acutely aware that the gargoyle had fixed its menacing yellow eyes on him.

"Dark eyes, dark hair awaits for you,

But love is blind where hatred blooms,

In troubled times you must be brave,

But it's up to you which one you save."

Harry felt his mouth fall open. The gargoyle had returned to its immobile state, leaving Harry completely stunned by what he had just seen. What had he just seen? A Prophecy? No. Only Seer's can predict those, not door guarding Gargoyles surely?

Choosing not to think on it until he next saw Hermione, he climbed the remaining stairs and knocked on the Headmasters office.

No answer. He knocked again, but on his third knock the oak door clicked open, and granted him entrance. This wasn't the first time it had done this, so Harry obligingly stepped through.

The light was dimmed around the office, with only two candles either side of Dumbledore's rather cluttered desk. Harry could only imagine what would require so much messy paperwork, and prayed that he wasn't about to witness what happens when candles and paperwork mixed. The whole room itself felt colder too, looking around Harry felt like there was an odd chill in the air, an odd emptiness, to the usually attractive and inviting office.

"Hello?" He called. "Professor Dumbledore?" He shouted a little louder, thinking the professor could be having a mid morning nap.

There was a slow, creaking sound behind him, and Harry jumped, instinctively pulling his wand out as he looked at the source. To his surprise and relief, Harry saw that one of the glass cabinet doors that surrounded Dumbledore's pencieve had swung open.

He let out a sigh of relief, though it did little to calm his growing sense of foreboding. He went over to the pencieve and was just about to close the cabinet door, when he saw it. Perched on the revolving stand on the second shelf, was a small handful of hexagonal glass vials, each filled with a silvery blue liquid, and the one directly in the middle, was labeled: _'For my Harry'_.

Harry felt his chest tighten at his sudden intake of breath, he looked over his shoulder, certain that this had to be a cruel prank of some kind put together by Malfoy – _or someone!_

"Homenum Revelio!" He cast, a little unsure if he wanted to find anyone at all. But there was no one there.

Harry turned back to look at the Vial. Picking it up he could just about see in the dim light that this vial was immaculately clean, not even a single speck of dust was on it, unlike the others which looked as though they hadn't been touched for sometime.

Could the Vial really be for him? Surely not? There must be loads of Harry's in the school, why would this vial be for him? But even as Harry pondered this, he knew there was something, _right_ , about this vial. As he held it, he felt like he knew that it was his, that it had a sense of belonging to him, like he knew it from somewhere deep in his subconscious.

Without even thinking, he uncorked the vial and tipped its contents into the Pencieve. He took a deep breath, and plunged head first into the hydrous memory.

Opening his eyes he recognized that he was still in Dumbledore office, only this time, the lights were fully aglow and there didn't seem to be a large mountain of parchment and paperwork on his desk, and if he had to guess by the look from the burnt orange coming through the windows he felt like it was late afternoon.

Suddenly Harry felt the horrible sensation of a wand tip pressing into his lower back, followed quickly by an unknown female voice;

"Who the Hell are you!?"

* * *

 **A.N: I know, I know...this took far too long to publish. However like I said before, this story is ever changing and when I originally read through this chapter, I felt Hermione was being portrayed as a...well...a bit of a bitch! So I HAD to change that...originally she wasn't even in the chapter and it was just Harry feeling sorry for himself, which to me, didn't feel like good reading...So that's why I have taken longer to update than planned. Anyways I hope you enjoyed this update and I Solemnly Vow that the next update will be posted on Sunday. Don't forget to let me know what you think so far. Until then...mischief managed!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3:**

 **Agree To Disagree**

 **September 3rd 1957, Hogwarts express.**

"You aren't seriously considering wearing that all the way to Hogwarts Bella?"

"You just watch me! If he so much as passes this compartment one more time I'll turn him into the cockroach he is - then stamp on him for good measure!" Growled the 16 year old, currently invisible, Bellatrix Black to her younger sister Andromeda.

"He keeps coming past because he's wondering where you are, if you just take off that damn invisibility cloak he'll soon stop. Honestly Bella, you're going to have to deal with him sooner or later, we're in the same house for goodness sake." Andromeda told the space where she believed Bellatrix sat.

"He's not wondering anything, he's _spying!_ I bet you two Sickles father gets an owl from him within the next hour confirming I didn't run away." Bellatrix spat. "No bloody way am I going to marry Rudolphus-fricken-Lestrange! No way hosay! I won't do it, I absolutely refuse!" Bellatrix sounded as if she was almost hyperventilating she was so angry.

"Fathers not going to sign anything unless he's been over the agreement at least 100 times." Andromeda sighed, trying to sound optimistic. "I mean it's not as bad as you think, he may not even sign it and if he does you have until your 17 to change his mind." She gave a small smile that soon vanished as the dark haired, rather dangerous looking beauty that was her sister, whipped off the invisibility cloak.

"Are you kidding me? Not that bad. Not that bad!? It's an unbreakable marriage contract Andi! If he signs it I'm screwed – there's no way out! And you can bet your potions he will because Lestrange will offer all the gold in Gringotts if he can!" Bellatrix scowled, her eyes slightly rosed from hidden tears.

"Well I….I just mean you still have time to dissuade father if he does." Andromeda squeaked.

"Oh yeah great idea Andi, I never thought of that." Bellatrix gave a sarcastic applause. "Why do you think we're not allowed home this Christmas? It's so father doesn't have to listen to me going on about it the whole time. In 6 months I'll be trapped….Doomed forever to be the bride of _Rudolph-So-Ugly_ Lestrange." She slumped into her seat and starred out the compartment window, silent tears threatening to fall.

Andromeda starred at her sister for a moment, watching as a tear cascaded down her soft cheeks. It was surprising for her to see Bellatrix looking so defeated, being her elder sister Andromeda had always seen Bellatrix as being the one with all the answers, the one she could rely on to solve her problems. But now it was Bella's turn for help, and she had very little help to give. She bit her bottom lip absentmindedly as she tried to come up with an appropriate solution to resolve her sister's turmoil.

"You could…well I could, try and talk to father for you…he might-"

Bellatrix half laughed and allowed her glossed ruby lips to kink upwards. "Nice try Andi," she said, drying her tears with her cardigan sleeve. "But I've already spoken to father, he'll never change his mind, in fact he'll probably say the same to you as he did to me; _'This is a matter for wizards not witches Bella!'"_ She impersonated, puffing out her chest and shooing her hands towards Andromeda in as pompous a voice as she could muster.

The sisters laughed halfheartedly at her accurate portrayal of their father.

"Not sure your father would approve of such behaviour Bella." Interrupted an arrogant Rudolphus Lestrange, who was standing in the compartment door. He was a tall 17-year-old boy, with a hooked almost beak-like nose dotted with large pours. He had long dark hair tied into a low ponytail, matched with what looked like the start of a moustache and goatee that refused to grow at the same rate, and a pair of ordinary brown eyes topped with a caterpillar monobrow.

Bellatrix immediately drew her wand. "What are you _skulking_ at Dollop _!?_ " She scowled, her violet eyes narrowing.

"You can call me what you like Bella, because…" He pulled out a letter from his left pocket, "guess what just arrived from my father." He gave a sly smile as Bellatrix snatched it and began to unfold the parchment, not taking her eyes off him.

"Don't read it Bella." Andromeda warned, already second guessing what was making Rudolphus so happy. But she read it none the less:

 _ **'Copy of Agreement to Certify the Marriage between Bellatrix of House Black and Rudolphus of House Lestrange has been arranged'**_

Bellatrix felt as if someone had sucked all the air out of the room. Her hands went limp and the parchment fell from her numb fingers. Her heart raced, pounding against her rib cage like an orchestral drum, filling her ears with resonating booms. Overall she felt as if she had been petrified.

 _'He signed it. I can't believe he signed it.'_ A small voice in the back of her head chanted in to the stunned silence.

And yet, taking in one long deep breath Bellatrix Black gave a mirthless smile as she raised her wand level with Rudolphus' heart. She couldn't help but snicker as the boy involuntarily gulped and took a step back, his hands rising in surrender.

"Now now Bella. There's no need for wands." He stated. "Don't want anyone else getting hurt because of your temper do we?" His eyes narrowed suggestively as they glanced behind Bellatrix. The dark witch was acutely aware that McNair and Rabastan Lestrange had now joined the stand-off, their wands pointed at Andromeda, who Bellatrix was pleased to see, was standing her ground behind her sister. But her sister was several years younger and although she knew how to duel she hadn't learnt a great deal of spells that could help in this situation.

She raised her wand and gave a false, unnatural laugh. "What's the matter Dollop? Can't take a joke?"

There was a moments pause before Rudolphus also let out an unconvincing chuckle and the other boys lowered their wands. Andromeda however, refused to lower hers until Bellatrix delicately placed a hand on the tip to lower it, ignoring the electric shock of charged magic as she did.

"The girl has a sense of humour." He leered, signalling for the others to return to their own compartment before looking as if he too was about to join them, when he stopped. A yellow smile spread knowingly across his oily face. He turned back to Bellatrix and bowed low. "My Apologies Mistress Black, please forgive my intrusion." In true wizarding aristocratic fashion he offered his hand- adorned with three gold signet rings- in forgiveness.

Surprised, Bellatrix studied him suspiciously, every inch of her screamed not to take his hand, but she could already hear the giggling of several students in the hallway watching the spectacle, and today she was not in the mood for any attention.

"Get up you're forgiven Rudo-" Just as she went to touch his hand to release him, he grabbed hers and pulled her sharply towards him, saying in hushed tones so that only Bellatrix could hear;

"You know, I think I'm going to enjoy _breaking_ you this year Black. Thanks to your dearest daddy, you're now _mine_ and you will obey me one way or the other."

Bellatrix felt her heart leap to her throat, a cold chill plummeting through her like an ice cube. She felt Rudolphus release her and for a moment she just stared at him.

"WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE!?" Andromeda strode past Bellatrix like a charging bull. Bellatrix, if she had not been so shocked, would've found the scene incredibly funny, and by the laughing crowd so did everyone else.

Andromeda had put her wand but that hadn't stopped her from lunging at the Rudolphus, who was at least double her height and starring at her in a mix of disgust and confusion.

"DO YOU KNOW WHO WE ARE?! IF MY FATHER WAS HERE HE'D BLOW YOUR BALLS OFF!" She squeaked, her flame red hair swishing angrily about her hips. Bellatrix snapped back into the moment, spotting McNair already pointing his wand at her sister. She grabbed the girl by the collar and yanked her back into the compartment.

"HEY!"

 _"Enough_ Andi." Bellatrix scorned, shooting Andromeda a dangerous look that made her sister pale slightly. "I will deal with this."

"You and your sister need to learn your place!" Rudolphus threatened as he stepped back into the compartment doorway, "One day, your tempers could get you hurt."

Bellatrix felt a burst of hatred growl from within her but she managed not to let it show, "I apologise for my sister's behaviour, _my lord_ " She swallowed, "You are quite right, it was not our place at all." She leaned towards him seductively, placing her right hand gently to his face and allowing her nails to flow through his greasy hair. Rudolphus didn't move an inch, and Bellatrix forced herself to smile as he let out a soft moan – she knew just how beautiful she was and she knew how to use it. Anyone watching would have believed they were about to kiss, confirmed by Andromeda's hushed " _Yuuck!"_

Bellatrix leaned towards him, using every bit of self-control to not breath in his musky scent, but she skimmed passed his lips and just like he had to her she spoke into his ear.

"Not if I break you first."

"BELLA NO!" Andromeda cried. But it was too late.

 **BANG!**

Rudolphus flew backwards into the carriage wall behind him, cracking the glass in the window with a bone chilling crunch, his head slamming into the metal frame, before falling to the floor like a rag doll. Silence fell throughout the train.

For a few seconds, Bellatrix stood proudly over the knocked out body of Lestrange, staring down at him like a lion would its prey. Andromeda, who had spotted Bellatrix point her wand into Lestranges stomach, stepped forwards to look at the pathetic figure on the floor. Half of her wanted to congratulate her sister, but the other was filled with dread as she spotted a small puddle of red beginning to pool its way across the carpet.

"Bellatrix," she gulped, "What have you done?"

 **TOOOOOT! TOOOOOOOT!**

The two girls jumped at the whistle and Bellatrix spotted one of the train guards striding towards them.

* * *

Headmaster Dippet paced in front of his desk, his hands behind his back. His honey mustard robes swishing as he walked and his matching hat drooped and bobbed about loosely in front of his face. He twirled his moustache thoughtfully before turning to face Bellatrix, leaning back against the desk with a firm exhale of breath.

Hard pencil grey eyes met hers, but she didn't look away.

"This is the first time, in all my years of office, that a student has ever managed to be sent to my office before the start of term." Bellatrix felt her cheeks burn. "Do you have anything to say for yourself Miss Black?" His voice heavy with disappointment.

Bellatrix wanted to say that Rudolphus deserved it. That if the school knew what was happening behind closed doors they would understand. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs, 'help me! I don't want to marry him! I don't want to be a Lestrange! I don't want this please help me!' But instead, she simply shook her head slowly from side to side and stared at something blurred on the far wall.

"No sir."

Dippet Hummed thoughtfully, "You realise this is the third time in six months that you and Lestrange have had an altercation on school property Miss Black." Bellatrix didn't answer. "If it were under any other circumstances I would not hesitate to expel you. However," he strode over to his desk and removed a fluttering origami swan. "A little birdie felt it prudent for me to know a few things before I pass judgement." He gave an understanding smile as he allowed the swan to glide into her hands. Immediately it spread its wings and unfolded itself revealing a hastily scribbled note;

' **Lestrange threatened my sister first.**

 **Arranged marriage contract signed.**

 **Please don't expel my sister.**

 **Andromeda Black'**

"Andromeda was always very good at swans." Bellatrix smiled as the parchment transformed again and fluttered back into Dippet's desk draw. "But she didn't need t-''

"I like to pride myself on knowing each of my students." He dragged his chair from behind his desk and sat down opposite Bellatrix, making her sit up a little straighter. "I think that I would be failing as headmaster if I did not take stock of what was going on both in the class room and at home."

Bellatrix felt her toes stiffen inside her shoes. Perhaps the headmaster was not as oblivious as she thought. Maybe he could _help_ her. If anyone was more likely to persuade her father not to go through with the arrangement, it would be him.

He gave her what she believed to be a knowing look and she felt a twinkle of hope bubble inside her chest.

"I believe; congratulations are in order!" He smacked his knees with both hands and positively beamed at her from under his floppy hat. She felt her jaw drop. "I must admit I think this is an absolutely brilliant arrangement, a very clever move on your father's behalf. I can remember when my cousin, Mildred, was married off when she was 16. Yes, that worked out very well for the family. Now," he slapped his knees again as if to bring himself back to the present. "I have taken the liberty of….."

But Bellatrix didn't hear what he was saying. Her ears roared with the sound of blood drumming through them. She felt as if she was falling into an endless pit of darkness that threatened to engulf her. She shut her eyes as the room began to swim. She gripped the stool to keep herself steady, digging her nails as deep into the wood as she could. Everything was wrong and no one except her and Andromeda could see that. What was worse was the fact the very people, the very _institution_ , she believed could help her, were too oblivious to even notice she needed it.

"What do you think to that?"

"Sorry." Bellatrix snapped, her eyes springing open onto the overly chirpy Headmaster.

"About your new living arrangements with Lestrange?" He folded his arms, and Bellatrix thought he looked a little annoyed.

"Living arrangements? With Lestrange!?" Her voice hit a new pitch as her mind crashed back to reality. "So I'm not expelled professor?"

"Of course not!" He laughed. "I'd be a terrible Headmaster if I expelled an engaged student from her final year of study."

"What!?" Bellatrix could feel the panic race through her body, her heart pounding louder in her chest. "But…But I haven't even finished my exams! Sir this can't be my final year?"

"Of course it is. I would have thought you would know this Bellatrix, after all your parents marriage was arranged. Didn't they tell you this?" He gave Bellatrix a confused look as she shook her head frantically. "Well it's an old wizarding law, that once the wizard has finished his education his wife no longer attends education. As this is Rulophus' final year it is also yours. Not to worry Miss Black, I'm sure you will make a wonderful home witch and continue the Lestrange line." He grinned at her and Bellatrix couldn't hide her disgust at his complete incompetence. "Now, getting back to your new living arrangements. I believe your things have already been moved from the girls dormitory into the arranged quarters you'll be sharing with Rudolphus. I just need-"

"I don't want to share _anything_ with him!" She snapped, unable to stop herself and forgetting who she was addressing. "And if you think, for one second, that I'm going to share a bed with him then I'll…I'll….I don't know what I'll do, but it won't be pleasant!" She felt her chest heave as her breathing quickened and all the nerves in her body felt as if she had been struck by lightning. She felt a cold tear glide down her cheek and she realised she was crying. As she brought a hand up to wipe it away she saw she was violently shaking. Everything was going horribly wrong.

For a moment there was silence between the two of them. Headmaster Dippet seemed frozen in his seat, as if he had never seen anything like this before. Bellatrix stared back at him determinately, silently begging him, daring him to expel her so she could at least have a chance of running away and escaping her fate.

"Right well…." Dippet coughed, collecting himself and standing up sharply. "I think I shall go and fetch the errr t-the nurse. I'm sure Poppy will be able to err…assist with this." She noticed the slight panic in his voice as he briskly walked to the door, not bothering to look at her. "Yes, this is clearly a topic to be discussed between women. You should stay here…Yes! You stay here Bell- Miss Black, I won't be err…, won't be long." The wooden door slammed shut and just like that he was gone.

It took a few moments before Bellatrix realised that the headmaster was actually gone. She couldn't believe what she had just witnessed. Was this really the man in charge of Hogwarts? What were the ministry thinking?

"He's a complete idiot!" Bellatrix starred at the door, half expecting Andromeda to burst through and say it was all a huge joke. Yet she knew it wasn't and she clenched her fists, determination pulsing through her.

"I won't be beaten this easily. I need a plan. What to do to? What to do? What to do?" She chanted out loud, hoping an idea would pop into her head as she bounced on her feet.

She looked around the oval office and her eyes stopped on the headmaster's bookcase. " **Books!** " She whispered excitedly, "there's got to be something here that can help." She sprinted towards the bookcase and began searching the titles. If her hunch was correct, the books in the Headmasters office were off limits to students and would not be easy to come across anywhere else.

 _ **'Banishing Your Banshee'**_

 _ **'Unspeakables & Curses: For The Experienced Wizard'**_

 _ **'Secrets of the Underworld: Revelations of the Werewolf Kingdom.'**_

 _ **'Dark Rituals and Long Lasting Curses: Make Enemies Pay Beyond the Grave.'**_

She scanned more and more titles, her hunch was proving correct but her heart fell a little more as each one showed no evidence of being any use to her. She was just getting to the last shelf when she heard it. A faint whisper…

" **Bella….Belllaaa…** " She froze. She felt the hairs on her neck stand on end. The eerie whisper called again and her heart leapt into her throat. Instinctively she removed her wand from her sleeve and spun round to face whoever it was.

There was no one.

' _Great. The worst day of my life ends by being haunted.'_ Yet even as she tried to convince herself that she was indeed imagining things, something was telling her not to lower her wand, and her mind raced with possible spells. 'It's got to be a prank.'

"Who's there?" She called, instantly regretting it. ' _Bella you fool. Just announcing exactly where you are!'_

 **"Bellaaa….."**

Bellatrix jumped as if she'd touched an electric fence, as a glass hatched cabinet door swung open.

 _ **PEeOow!**_

Without hesitation a spell shot from the end of her wand and ricocheted off one of the glass panels and violently pinged straight back to her. She ducked as her own spell whizzed past her, narrowly missing her and striking one of the books behind her.

 _'Well at least I didn't blow anything up this time.'_ She thought, as she checked the book for any singe marks. A low groan escaped its pages but aside from that, nothing.

 **"BEllaaa…."** She dropped the book as the voice called her name again and again and again. Each time getting louder and louder, until the whisper became more of a torrent of wind and she had to cover her ears. **"BEllaa… BELlaa….BELLaa…BELLAAAAAAAAA…"**

As the herring gust grew louder still, Bellatrix watched as a white light grew from within the cabinet until it was so bright she could no longer bare to look at it. Eyes shut tight, ears covered – this had to be a trick, it had to be.

Just when she thought her eardrums would surely burst the voice stopped and the light faded. Bellatrix squinted one eye back towards the cabinet – what she saw enraged her. A student with messy black hair stood before her, his back turned.

Wand ready – temper definitely ready – she stalked silently towards the figure. She didn't recognise him, but she second guessed that he must be one of Lestranges gang members sent to teach her a lesson.

She smiled as she poked the tip of her wand into his lower back, she almost laughed as his body visibly stiffened.

"Who the _hell_ are you!?"

* * *

 **A.N. I can say nothing except, Thank you for waiting. Promise the next chapter will be posted in 10 days. As I wrote this chapter I found myself enjoying writing Andromeda's character - she may be small but dont mess with family...Which only saddens me.**

 **Let me know what you thought, your reviews really are inspiring x**


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